ThirdWayMan

You tried meditation but quit because you didn’t feel any different.

You tried getting more sleep but stopped because it didn’t seem to give you more energy.

You opened an AdWords account and sent a few clicks then quit because nothing was working.

You dabbled at building a list but your optin rate was only 10% so you said fuck this and quit.

One by one, we fall for the myth of the unicorn: the myth of the overnight success, the instant breakthrough, the home run.

The price you pay is broken calibration: the only hit your brain counts as success is the home run. Base hits don’t even show up on your radar. read more

Three nights ago I tore a strip off our waiter on date night.

I’d been “off” all day and felt like shit.

When ordering, I checked with the waiter to make sure the enchiladas were made with corn tortillas, as I am allergic to gluten.

He nodded an emphatic yes.

But when my plate arrived, the tortillas were clearly FLOUR, not corn.

I called the waiter over and said “are these flour tortillas?”

Another emphatic yes.

“I asked you before if they were corn and you said yes. I can’t eat wheat. You’ll need to take it back.” read more

Just found this note on my phone from a recent trip to California:

Dog at beach chasing a ball. Sucked at it. Didn’t give a shit.

I laughed as I remembered this dog I’d been watching: a huge coltish black poodle chasing a tennis ball at the beach with utter clumsiness, missing the ball every single time.

It was painful for me to watch.

But not for him.

He clearly did not give a shit. He was there to play ball. And he was loving every minute.

…

You think you have to wait until you’re “good” at what you want to do to enter the ring, to put out your shingle, to launch your product, to make your dent. read more

Before I ripped my knee open in a motorcycle accident at age nine, dirt bikes were my singular obsession.

I remember many a road trip when I would look out the window and “ride” an imaginary dirt bike parallel with the car, jumping overpasses and fences in my mind’s eye for hours on end.

It felt so real, I would almost forget it was imaginary.

A warning sign of what was to come.

…

If you read this blog, chances are you have a vivid imagination.

When your close your eyes and imagine the house you could build, the book you could write, the business you could start… the vision is so remarkably clear and compelling that the temptation to build things INTERNALLY, in your own mind, instead of EXTERNALLY, in the real world, is a distinct and ongoing temptation. read more

You thought you’d finally found your dark art.

So you took the plunge and set out to unleash it… to “do what you love,” to “follow your passion.”

But the clouds did not part.

The angels did not sing.

In fact, the way was rough, with thorns and snares and wolves snapping at your heels.

Bewildered, you stopped, boots sunk in the mud, crickets sawing in the dark, and you felt utterly, completely lost.

…

“Find your passion: then everything else will fall into place. The rest is just details.” read more

One of three things happen to your creative passions once you become a time-strapped family man:

1. You let them die

2. You pursue them anyways

3. You hobbify

Option one is clearly shit and the number one reason we have an epidemic of “ghosts at the table” around the globe.

Option two is the courageous, worthwhile path. It’s what Third Way Man is all about.

And then there’s option three.

Oh, option three. You seem so wise, so practical, so grown-up.

You tell yourself you no longer have the time or freedom to “go pro” with your passions–to pursue them at the utmost level of your ability–so you decide from here on out you’ll do it “just for fun.” read more

Most people’s wheat allergies jack their bellies.

Mine jacks my brain.

If I unwittingly ingest wheat, twelve hours later, my life is shit. That’s how it looks through the doom-tinted glasses the wheat gives me, anyways.

I didn’t realize wheat had this “emotional black hole” affect on me until just a few years ago.

Once I made the connection and quit eating it, I experienced some dramatic changes:

I became less moody.

I became less derailed by business setbacks.

I experienced fewer “dark nights of the soul.” read more

I was 24 years old, foot-loose, and fancy-free.

I had no bills, no address, no house, no family, no obligations.

I slept in the back of my 1989 Toyota 4Runner.

I had nothing to my name but that 4Runner, an apple box full of books, my Larrivée acoustic guitar, my amp, and my loop pedal.

Now, years later, with a wife, four kids, two businesses, and employees to care for, it would be easy to look back on those times and think of them wistfully as the “good old days” when I was free.

But the truth is, I wasn’t “free.” read more

When I was 18, my dad and I naively set out to conquer Mt. Whitney all in one day.

We summited alright, but by sundown we had only made it back down to base camp… still many hours away from the parking lot.

We had no camping gear whatsoever, so overnighting it above treeline was out of the question.

Luckily, we met up with another hiker who shared our predicament… and unlike us, he had the sense to have brought a flashlight.

And so the three of us proceeded to walk off that mountain in the pitch dark, with only one flashlight to guide us. read more

Let me guess: you strive to be a “supportive husband.”

You listen.

You champion.

You long-suffer.

You pick your battles VERY carefully, convinced that every kind action is a “deposit” in her emotional bank account, and every argument a “withdrawal.”

I call this the position of over-solidarity.

In other words, a position of peace at any cost with your wife.

Two bad things happen when you adopt the position of over-solidarity:

1. You grow shitty.

A husband’s calling is not to appease his woman. It’s to love her (and she him) into a higher plane of existence. read more